


When the rain dries up

by TiredClover



Category: The Wizards of Once Series - Cressida Cowell
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:27:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26580631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiredClover/pseuds/TiredClover
Summary: It was the middle of the night when Sychorax woke up. The rain that was pouring down a few hours ago had lightened over time, the last of the drizzle slowly clearing up as the small sliver of moonlight peering from the clouds became more and more visible. Now, any sensible person up at this time of night would hastily try to get back to sleep so they would be somewhat well rested by morning. Sychorax would have done that too, if it weren’t for the fact that she was not the only one awake at this miserable hour.Basically a oneshot of me headcanonning about book 3
Relationships: Sychorax & Tor | Encanzo
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	When the rain dries up

**Author's Note:**

> I have casually slipped out of the ace attorney fandom and into the twoo fandom, hello there

It was the middle of the night when Sychorax woke up. The rain that was pouring down a few hours ago had lightened over time, the last of the drizzle slowly clearing up as the small sliver of moonlight peering from the clouds became more and more visible. Now, any sensible person up at this time of night would hastily try to get back to sleep so they would be somewhat well rested by morning. Sychorax would have done that too, if it weren’t for the fact that she was not the only one awake at this miserable hour. The crouched figure of Encanzo sat across the burnt clearing from her, great heavy clouds billowing from his blurry outlines. In front of him was a magical, colourful fire he had conjured up, which lit up the space he was in and made it possible to vaguely see the enchanter himself.

As her vision adjusted to the dark of the night, Sychorax realised that the man in front of her was crying. His tears seemed to glow in the reflection of the fire, yet his grey eyes were dull and sad. The great fur cloak he usually wore was on a burnt tree stump not too far from her, and she could catch a glimpse of it through the corner of her eyes. Encanzo was holding his left shoulder so tightly that one could only imagine the mark it must have left. As his trembling grip loosened, to her displeasure, she saw a familiar scar. A scar she herself had been the cause of, on the day she and the young wizard boy Tor had met in the forest for the very first time. In fact, his lack of reaction to the arrow that grazed his shoulder all those years ago was the reason she fell in love with him.

It was the type of thing that makes a sort of painful guilt stir up inside you, and some empty space in her chest ached slightly. Sychorax shut her eyes in the hope that she could forget about those memories, and settle down again for a few hours more of sleep. But the tightness in her ribs wouldn’t go away, it became apparent that sleep wasn’t coming easily. Encanzo was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice when the warrior queen silently got up, and picked up his cloak. It was soft and comfortable, and Sychorax could tell why the enchanter liked to wear it so much. If she wasn’t a warrior queen, maybe she would have stroked some of the thin strands of fur. But, after all, she WAS a warrior queen. So she took the cloak and glided towards Encanzo.

And she placed the cloak over his shoulders. Encanzo gave a start, since as we previously mentioned, he was lost in thought. He abruptly looked away, since it is not very uncomfortable to be seen crying in front of a person who is technically your enemy. Sychorax looked away, too, since it is equally uncomfortable to see your enemy crying in front of you. But she found herself sitting down beside him. The two of them sat in silence, watching the colourful fire flicker and spark in the ominous clearing. The enchanter quickly adjusted his cloak to cover the scar on his shoulder. There were still tears on his cheeks, but he had stopped crying after he knew that Sychorax was awake. He lay a hand on the fur of his cloak and gripped it tightly, like he had done with his own shoulder a few minutes before.

Encanzo sighed. He took his hand off his cloak. And he turned towards Sychorax, his dark eyes lightening as the moon shone on them. Sychorax didn’t have time to turn to face him before he wrapped her in a tight hug. She stiffened, her ice cold face melting the tiniest bit with the warmth of the cloak. And slowly, ever so slowly, she placed her hand on Encanzo’s back. And she could feel him crying into her shoulder, his back heaving under her palm. It was a cold and gloomy night, and the two monarchs stayed in that silent hug, for warmth, that is.

“..We will never speak of this again, Encanzo.” Muttered Sychorax under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

Encanzo chuckled to himself.

“You can just call me Tor.”

**Author's Note:**

> Totally haven’t had this stored for ages or anything
> 
> Sidenote 14 is my lucky number and I’m the 14th twoo fic on ao3 yay


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